


EASE

by lny



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lny/pseuds/lny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eden has been having a rough time lately and maybe with Cesar being there it would be easier</p>
            </blockquote>





	EASE

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for Eden's birthday, probably the last thing I would write for his birthday.(since Zidane is the new manager of RM now)  
> Still, get well soon Eden.  
> English is not my first language so I do apologise for any mistake.  
> Hope you enjoy it.

_“But lately every time I think I’m better_

_Pickin’ my head up getting nowhere_

_Take me back to the basics and simple life_

_Tell me all of the things that make you feel at ease_

_Your touch my comfort my lullaby_

_Holdin’ on tight and sleepin’ at night.”_

_\--Troye Sivan/Broods, “EASE(Explicit)”_

_***_

 

Their team started to take the lead on the 32nd minute against Watford.

 

Eden Hazard was relived for a moment and then began to stare absent-mindedly at the pitch, as well as the ever-so-dashing banners dedicated to their former manager, Jose Mourinho. He tried hard not to let his thoughts drift…drift to those harsh comments on his social networking sites, but failed anyway.

 

The fans called him a traitor, a rat and many other things that he didn’t even understand. The Belgian knew that he was supposed to ignore the comments, for he hadn’t done any of those things that the fans were accusing him of, well, except for not being himself lately, which is something he desperately wanted to make a change. Or…maybe he was to be blamed for the sacking of their manager, if not, why was he feeling guilty for no good reason.

 

Sometimes reading the same thing over and over again could turn a tale into something close enough to the truth, however ridiculous it may sound.

 

Eden Hazard never cared about what people think of him, or at least he believed he never did. It must be the old bruise on his hip that was causing this little sting inside him, what else could it be?

 

***

 

It was during the 56th minute when their team gave away their advantage and there was no time to lose any more.

 

Eden Hazard was anxious and he stared intensely at his teammates on the pitch, and one of them especially. Cesar Azpilicueta was seizing every opportunity to block, to tackle and dash forward even, with all his muscles tensed and the usual smile on his face was replaced by a deep frown.

 

Eden Hazard wished there was something he could do to erase that frown away from the pretty face of the Spaniard’s, just like how he wished to know why they hadn’t been talking for more than a week since the departure of Jose. They had spoken to each other alright, when Cesar asked about his hip injury and other insignificant stuff.

 

“Are you coming to Cobham today?” He asked a few days back.

 

“Get well soon then.” He answered when Eden said no, the same way that any distant relative or even stranger would, not the way his best friend would.

 

Eden felt his heart sank a little and hung up the phone.

 

Conversations like this were no proper talking for them. Eden Hazard wondered if they would be having proper talking any more, those exchanges of feelings that were once capable of making Eden feel soft inside and drawing his lips into a nice curve.

 

Cesar was upset, Eden Hazard told himself, of course he was. Jose had probably been the most important manager to Cesar in his career so far, and without him, Cesar might not have the chance to play important games, and supporting Eden as the left-back behind him. Cesar had every right to be upset, and even to be mad at him, not for the same reason as the fans of course, but for not performing up to his standard and not being able to keep Jose.

 

“I want to be on the pitch.” He suddenly felt the strong urge to mend the whole thing, to make up for the mistake he hadn’t made.

 

And then Eden Hazard was told to start warming up and get ready to play.

 

***

 

They were at 2-2 when he was sent onto the pitch. It should be easier like this, the Belgian thought. He could turn the game into a three-point victory, he believed so and was convinced of it when he turned his head to look at Cesar and the Spaniard was looking back at him too, not exactly smiling but more like expecting something. It sent him waves of reassurance to see Cesar still having faith in him.

 

Eden smiled a little inside and told himself to focus.

 

***

 

It was 79th minute and he was taken down by Valon Behrami in the penalty area. All of a sudden his thigh muscle hurt like hell, like one of his legs was just smashed by a fast-driving car, like all the sensory neurons from other part of his body stopped working, all he could feel was the pain concentrated on his thigh.

 

Except that they hadn’t stopped working, not the ones from his hand.

 

Because he could feel, vaguely, that his hand was gripped by someone else’s. He couldn’t tell who was holding him, only the grip was warm, firm, and also…familiar. He would be lying if he said that the pain had vanished within a few seconds but still, with someone being there, supporting him both physically and mentally, it was easier to regain the strength for his body to function, at least for the last ten minutes of the game.

 

“You okay, Eden? ”

 

“You’ve done it. Just got us a penalty, maybe three points.”

 

He could tell who’s holding his hand now, the voice he knew too well to differentiate from the rest immediately.

 

“Yeah… That’s good.”

 

The warmth from the point of contact between their hands spread to his whole body, and Eden Hazard suddenly know how to smile again.

 

***

 

They failed to grab the three points.

 

***

 

It was the first match of 2016 and four days until Eden’s birthday

 

Not that he cared much about it, the cliché of having a brand-new team spirit because it was new year, or scoring before birthday as a gift to himself, just that it would be nice to have his mood lifted up a little after a disastrous half-season. And what could be a better opportunity than this for the team to start winning.

 

The team did start winning, only he wasn’t really involved in the victory. Eden Hazard was forced off the pitch after a newly developed groin injury.

 

“Great… Thanks to this bloody perfect weather.” He cursed as he signaled for replacement and limped off, the second time in five matches. Should be a new record for him and something media would definitely like.

 

Eden Hazard had seemed to forget the ultimate rule of the universe that things did not always turn out as what you expected it would be.

 

He was about to experience the “best” birthday of his life.

 

***

 

He said “okay” when a fan asked him about his injury before boarding the bus, and Cesar was walking right behind him as always, watching him intensely, as if he was trying to judge how bad the Belgian was hurt.

 

He didn’t know whether the “okay” was meant for the fan to hear or the Spaniard, maybe a little bit of both.

 

“It’s okay, Cesar. I’m in absolute no need of a babysitter, you can go celebrate a little with the others.” Eden tried to sound cheerful, and failed miserably.

 

“’M sure you do.” Cesar answered in a tone too serious for a joke like this.

 

“Honestly, I’m fine. I have injured before, for your information.” He stopped trying this time, and the words came out just as pathetic as he expected himself to sound.

 

Cesar didn’t say anything, just watching him with his dark-green eyes.

 

When the stare became a little bit unbearable for him, Cesar finally started talking again.

 

“You know, I don’t blame you for it. .I know you tried.”

 

This time it was Eden who lost the ability to talk.

 

“So you should stop blaming yourself, for both the change of manager and not being able to play today,” he sounded as if Eden’s feeling mattered so much, “we are winning now so everything will be good again. Just stop over-thinking and get your perfect ass back onto the pitch once you recovered. ”

 

Eden Hazard laughed, much more genuinely this time than he had laughed for the past few months. He almost believed the Spaniard that everything will be good again.

 

And he did believe him when Cesar reached for his hand and squeezed it with his own, just like how he did it during the game against Watford, gentler, possibly, and his face cracking into a nice smile so familiar that almost made Eden’s eyes wet.

 

“So, still gonna be worst birthday ever, huh?” The tone was light and he knew Cesar had saw through him just now and was only teasing.

 

“Could have been, but not any more.” Eden Hazard squeezed his hand back and answered a little too honestly.

 

\-----FIN-----


End file.
